


Tradition

by MacKyleMore



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Some kinda New Years bs bc i can't control myself, Some sort of modern AU dont ask idk either, Teen bc they curse like...2 times just to be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22061095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacKyleMore/pseuds/MacKyleMore
Summary: "...Hell, I don't know! Go kiss a stranger or some shit." Eventually, Forde decides quickly; Irritated at Kyle's impatience. "Maybe then you'll understand why people do it.""They don't kiss 'strangers'!" Irritated himself; Kyle bites back. "They kiss the people they love and care for. You understand this about as well as I do, it seems.""Well you might as well try?" Forde's voice cracks."The only person around is you."Kyle's reply is spoken before the words themselves are thought.When Kyle registers what he just said: His heart pounds in his chest....What the hell did Kyle just indirectly suggest?
Relationships: Forde/Kyle
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> Side note I'm pretty sure other places (even in the US) do something other than Drop A Huge Glass Ball on a city for New Years but my East Coast ass will stick to what it knows

"It's such a stupid tradition." Kyle muses to himself.

It's spoken to no one in particular; As he assumes Forde is probably asleep by now.

...They're all pretty stupid, actually. Yet Kyle can't deny the fact that ever since he starting rooming with Forde, he himself subconsciously developed New Years traditions of his own.

The same shitty frozen pizza was bought just like it was last year, and the year before that. _It still tastes like cardboard;_ Kyle broods as he chews on the rubbery crust. It's _always_ tasted like cardboard, and it _likely will again next year_. Their impatience which makes them prepare it in the microwave instead of an oven probably doesn't do much for the taste: _Let alone texture._

"...You mean the whole thing where people kiss at the end of the year?" 

Oh, Not asleep _just_ yet. His voice is groggy, and he's probably in-between naps; _B_ _ut Forde's awake._

Kyle's not sure why he's surprised. This is yet another unspoken tradition; The one where Forde somehow manages to keep himself up for ringing in a new set of 365 days.

"Yeah. _Exactly."_ Kyle confirms, turning his head to the muted TV in the corner of their room... The display shows about 15 more minutes on a clock on the screen's interface. "And wouldn't it be kissing at the _'beginning'_ of the year?"

Kyle hears Forde laugh in the bottom bunk beneath him. "I'm sure some couples can't _bother_ to wait that extra second."

...Just why _is_ this special turned on every year, anyway? _It will only be the same_. Same ball is dropped. (An even _more_ stupid tradition.) Same shitty live performances. The same shots of people wearing their numbered glasses while they make out with their partners. 

Kyle remembers when he was younger, and how underwhelming watching this for the first time had really _been._

Kyle had wanted to see the glass ball actually _drop_. He thought it would _shatter._ (Now much older and more sensible: Kyle knows _now_ there is _no way_ they would _willingly_ scatter Times Square with millions of slivered glass shards... But the _real_ show was still such utter _disappointment.)_

Instead Kyle got to see nothing more on this _traditional program..._ Than people he didn't even _know_ as they kiss.

_...Cooties_ are gross to _all_ children.

_Maybe they're still gross to present-day Kyle.._.

"But doesn't the New Year actually not start _immedietly?"_ Kyle considers aloud, recalling mentions of time and place, back from discussions teachers went over in middle school science class. "Isn't there, like... A few seconds stacked from Leap Years? All these people are acting like they are starting the year off ' _i_ _n love',_ but in reality it hasn't even yet _b_ _egan."_

"Ahhh ha haaa! _I don't think it matters **that** much_." Forde's laughing at him... "You're thinking too much into it."

Forde thinks he can get off scot-free in mocking Kyle...

The _nerve._

Kyle groans, agitated.

"Don't get so frustrated!" Forde decides to elaborate a little further after Kyle grumbles. _"...Relax._ To _couples,_ it's only the thought that counts."

"And _I_ think it's stupid." Gripes Kyle.

"You upset because you have no one to kiss?" Forde prods with intimidation in his voice.

No... _Of course not_. Kyle's 22 this particular winter season. He's spent his _entire life_ on New Years never kissing anyone. There's no reason for it to all of a sudden start upsetting him _now._

"I'd rather kiss someone at a time that wasn't forced." Kyle informs, sure of himself.

_Because it's true_. Kissing someone for no good reason other than _everyone else_ is doing it is nothing short of foolish peer pressure.

_...Kyle **hates** New Years Eve. _

Everything about it is _torture._ How they gourge themselves on snacks and deprive themselves of sleep. _New Years traditions just have no sense of worth to them._

But the worst part is the sick, anxious feeling Kyle gets in his chest when he realizes another year has gone by; And when the clock hits twelve Kyle'll _never be able to go back to that specific time period again._

It's not _that_ big of a deal... Or at least it _shouldn't_ be. For years it has been the same song and dance. The same cheese-filled pretzel bites and 2 liter bottles of store-brand Mountain Dew. The same fuzzy TV screen showing the same setting of New York City at night.

There's nothing to feel the need to _return_ to. No nostalgic things to miss: Considering that this _same night_ will happen a year from now.

Yet an increase of numbers just makes Kyle so _sad_ for some indescribable reason.

"Then why bother staying up?" Forde hums. "You clearly _hate_ everything about this."

Kyle had forgotten the fact that they were even having a conversation, in the midst of recalling the bitter melancholy he has felt before. (And is willing to bet he will feel again.)

A sigh escapes from Kyle as he grows more and more defeated with himself.

Kyle hates **_everything_** here?

Well... Forde's not _wrong..._ But he's not _right,_ either.

_It's hard to explain._

It's almost like... _Wasted potential,_ Is the only reason Kyle here _hates_ this.

"Because traditions are stupid." Kyle restates. " _A_ _nd so am I_."

"...Maybe you're just sick of the same ones?" Forde is making a move to sit up now. Kyle can tell from the weight applied to the backboard beneath him. "I challenge you to make a new tradition! And when you get sick of _that_ one: _Just make more_."

...That hardly sounds like _'tradition.'_ If you're just going to drop them as soon as they grow stale: Then you can hardly call them _'traditions.'_

Even so, Kyle toys with the idea.

...Is it possible that it's not the past Kyle wants to re-live; But instead a new, more _exciting_ future? 

"Alright. Tell me, then." Kyle humors himself with Forde's offer. "With less than ten minutes left in the year; What the hell am I supposed to do _new?"_

"...Uuuhhh..." Kyle can practically hear the gears turning in Forde's head. "...Hmm..."

...

All of this is easier said than done; And Forde is getting ahead of himself.

Naturally, humans as a race _fall_ into patterns. Forming _new_ ones out of forced _choice_ won't be a cinch.

"I'm waiting." Kyle shouts sarcastically from his own bed. "And don't tell me to ' _W_ _ait until next year'_. Now or never."

"...Hell, _I don't know!_ Go kiss a stranger or some shit." Eventually, Forde decides quickly; Irritated at Kyle's impatience. "Maybe _then_ you'll understand _why_ people do it."

"They don't kiss _'strangers'!"_ Irritated himself _; Kyle bites back. "_ They kiss the people they _love_ and _care_ for. You understand this about as well as I do, it seems."

"Well you might as well _try?"_ Forde's voice cracks.

"The only person around is _you."_

Kyle's reply is _spoken_ before the words themselves are _thought._

When Kyle registers what he just said: His heart pounds in his chest.

...

_What the hell did Kyle just indirectly suggest?_

Forde is silent for a moment, and Kyle thinks _(prays)_ that maybe Forde suddenly passed out and _just went back to sleep._

"You saying you'd kiss me?" Forde's still awake. His voice is only a faint whisper.

_Of course..._ Forde spontaneously going back to bed?

_Too good to be true._

Forde only seems to rest when Kyle _needs_ him for something.

...And only stays awake when he plans to take the time to _annoy_ Kyle.

"Well... _Y_ _ou_ were the one who said I should kiss someone, And... _Obviously_ you're the only one within reach... D- _Don't read too much into it._ "

There is no point for Kyle to try and cover up his embarrassment... _But Kyle tries anyways_.

Forde's... _moving..._ now? Climbing the ladder to the top. When he gets there, Forde stares back at Kyle.

...

Hazy and backlit by the TV and limited illumination from a string of Christmas lights they still have to take down... Forde's kind of... _pretty._

Kyle wants to kick himself for thinking about _kissing_ Forde for even a _second,_ But...

_Kyle's thinking about it even **more** now that he sees Forde's soft face._

"I'll do it." Wh-Why is Forde now _grinnin_ _g?_ "If _you_ will, I mean."

Well _duh._

_It's not a thing you can do on your own_.

...

_I hate_ him. Kyle thinks to himself in denial. _I hate him so much._

**"Fine."** Kyle accidentally states in approval.

_I hate him. Hate his stupid attitude and know-it-all demeanor... Wait... **Why did I agree?**_

The next few minutes are spent in which Forde heaves himself onto Kyle's mattress; Legs dangling over the frame of the top of their bunk bed.

Forde's eyes are anxiously fixated on the television screen as he waits... But his thoughts are somewhere else; _Kyle knows without having to read his expression._

Kyle personally hasn't mustered up the strength to get up and situate himself properly for what they now have planned. Instead, Kyle lays on his side; Head propped up with a palm. 

Two more minutes pass. Any moment now. And they will eventually start counting back from 60.

"So... How are we gonna do this?" Forde finally breaks the silence and asks.

Kyle wonders for a moment if Forde has any sort of shame or dignity.

"I- I... I mean..." Forde continues; Stumbling with sentences as he seems to be in anticipation for... **_something._** "--If the new year actually doesn't _start_ at the count of one, like you said earlier: Then how do we know when it _does?"_

"Ugh... J-Just make it last awhile?" Kyle mutters. "Then I'm sure we'll cover any second that might have otherwise been missed."

"...Okay."

Wow...

This idea of theirs is so damn _weird._

Another minute.

...Two more.

60 more seconds until the East Coast is officially (by the construction of time, at least) in a new year.

...What has Kyle gotten himself into?

Forde still sits as he nervously kicks his legs back and forth.

...Should _Kyle_ be the one to move first? Forde isn't getting cold feet NOW, is he?

He's _Forde,_ for God's sake. Does he even GET that to _begin_ with?

Kyle groans, reluctantly lifting his body up in order to sit besides Forde.

They're so close now... Thighs touching...

Soon it will be _more_ than just legs and biceps. 

_This is the longest minute of my life._ Kyle realizes.

When the countdown reaches 11, Forde's the one to finally make a move: And he swallows a lump in his throat before leaning over; A good _nine seconds_ before he even _has_ to.

That... _That's at LEAST ten seconds_ where the two of them will be kissing: If they make it to the _'New Year'._

But if they want to make it to their constructed _stacked_ 'Leap Year' New Year... They will have to go even _longer._

And that is all Kyle can think about; Even with Forde's lips now suddenly on his. It's not until Kyle hears cries of _'Happy New Year'_ on the now _un_ -muted TV that it really _hits_ him.

They are _kissing_ and _have_ been for _ten seconds._ How much _longer_ are they going to be doing this?

The calendar isn't perfect; Depending on the year, The time-lag can be even as long as _minutes._

Kyle should pull away. Say that like the other traditions; One like this is _just_ as pointless.

But... Kyle doesn't. And instead Kyle finds his hand is now holding onto the side of Forde's face.

Forde's body is a mix of warm and cool; His breath hot, But skin cold from the way they both try to use the heater only when they absolutey _need_ it: In order to keep their energy bill cheaper.

...But Forde's much too cold to the touch. What's the point in having a heating unit if they aren't going to utilize it? Having it just sit there when the both of them are freezing serves even _less_ purpose.

...And Forde's sickeningly sweet on Kyle's tongue; Sugar-coated in soda and left-over holiday chocolate he bought on clearance at a gas station.

Kyle'll never be able to eat anything with a similar flavor palate again, He thinks. _Not if he wants to forget **this.**_

By the time Forde pulls away, Kyle figures 15 or 20 seconds have passed since the TV stated the New Year has rung in. 

But... Kyle doesn't... _need_ to forget this feeling.

This was originally pitched as a new tradition. And how can Kyle _forget_ it if it will _just happen again next year?_

**_'And when you get sick of that one: Just make more.'_ **

Forde's words from not-so long ago echo in Kyle's head.

...Kyle... isn't sure if this is one he **_would_** ever get sick of.

* * *

"Psst. _You awake?"_

Kyle rolls over; Awakening to the sound of this soft-spoken question. The sun has hardly even risen.

"...Kyle?" Forde asks in the early morning dawn.

What? _What's he want?_ Kyle wonders crankily.

It's New Years day. No place should even be open. There's no reason to be up so early _. Especially if you are **Forde.**_

"I am _now."_ Kyle mumbles into a pillow.

It's better to just let Forde get whatever he has to say out of his system. _Then maybe he'll shut up_ and allow Kyle to go back to his much needed rest.

"I just looked it up on my phone. On average, the time frame of seconds that don't fit on the Gregorian calendar are closer to around half a minute... You should have kissed me longer."

Half asleep, Kyle considers pointing out that _Forde_ was the one to put an end to their midnight kiss in the _first_ place.

But, Instead, all Kyle can offer is a sleepy: " _There's always next year."_

**Author's Note:**

> December 31st 2020 i come back and edit bc holy hell was my old writing style terrible for my personal taste as of today... 
> 
> but even so man do i love my fordekyle fics and how much they have honestly helped me get thru my rare, lonely, life threatening chronic condition lol. so i dont mind updating them to be more comprehensible :)
> 
> so i hope i am not just a bad fordekyle wr*ter to anyone who may stumble upon my f*cs but also an info dumping machine for vascular thoracic outlet syndrome bc that shit hurts and i wish i had known more abt it BEFORE it had to happen to me. bc its dangerous and scary and terrible and painful for myself and anyone else who went/goes thru it, as i still continue to suffer .
> 
> but i DIDNT know abt it. but NOW i definitely do, so you can too! 
> 
> bc its that lack of knowledge that makes it so hard and dangerous in the first place. idc HOW rare: bc *I* certainly feel it and it is not rare for me.
> 
> but that is why i began writing fordekyle stuff for myself: because of a weird pain that started beyond my comprehension and i NEEDED to keep myself sane with something. that SOMETHING was the comfort of writing fordekyle. so you cant have my bullshit without my vTOS talk ! thats the price


End file.
